Dasher
by BoomerCat
Summary: Remember when Gordon tried to catch one of Santa's reindeer? Christmas Fluff alert.
1. Chapter 1

_Christmas Eve, Tracy Island…_

Large glass of his father's special recipe eggnog in hand, Scott Tracy sat back on the sofa, listening to his brother Virgil play Christmas tunes on the piano.

As the winner of last Christmas' Scrabble tournament, he was sitting out the first round. Over at the game table, his father, grandmother, and brother Gordon were seated at the games table. The fourth seat was taken by a piece of typing paper with a scrawled stick picture meant to represent John, who was playing from his station on Thunderbird Five.

The game was considerably slowed by the fact that virtually every word that Gordon put down on the board was challenged by one or another of the other players. Scott listened in, smiling, as his grandma tsked, "Gordon David Tracy, 'sumulous' is not a word in Engish or any other language that I'm aware of."

"Sure it is, Grandma. It was a sumulous day on Tracy Island."

"Nice try, Squirt. Now take it back," John said from the video screen.

With a sigh, Gordon took back the letters, replacing his word with the much less interesting word, 'sums.' "We need a better dictionary."

"What's the score, son?" Jeff asked.

John looked down at a screen. "You've got 190. Grandma has 213. I have 197, and Gordon has minus 314."

There were chuckles all around the room and Scott shook his head. Gordon had a competitive streak that was the match for anyone in the family, but for whatever reason, it didn't extend to Scrabble or any other board game. He seemed to prefer to clown around just enough to keep the games from becoming death matches.

Scott would never admit it out loud, but he really appreciated his younger brother's easy way of making everybody more relaxed. He looked over at Virgil, who'd been listening in to, and they shared an eye roll, and a wry grin.

The house was full of Christmas cheer. The tree, despite being untraditional, was really quite beautiful. Scott'd had his doubts about it. To him, only a spruce or pine would do for a Christmas tree. But the press of work had kept them from having the time for a trip to the mainland. When Alan and Gordon had insisted on bringing in a tree from far side of the island, Scott had looked at it with a gimlet eye.

Virgil, however, had insisted that it could work, and with his artist's eye, directed his brothers in decorating it. Much to Scott's surprise, it was as beautiful as any they had had as kids in Kansas. The rest of the lounge had been decorated to match the tree, and the end result was a room full of memories of Christmas past.

"So, it is my turn yet?" Alan came striding in from wherever he'd been. He looked at the board, where it was Gordon's turn again. "Hey, figimint is not a word!"

"Is too. It's what you get if you put peppermint candies in a Christmas pudding."

Alan shook his head. "That word's a figimint of your imaginarration."

"No, you mean imagerry. Imaginarration is what storytellers do."

"Imagerry? I thought that was where you keep heffalumps and woozels."

"Actually, I think you're right. It's just as well, I don't like Christmas pudding anyway."

The two brothers nodded solemnly. After a beat, Alan perked up. "So, is it my turn yet?"

"One more round, and I'll be out, son. Just hang on."

Alan nodded and looking around, came and flopped down on the sofa next to Scott. "So, what'dya get me?"

Scott glanced at his chronometer. "It's only eleven o'clock. You're going to have to…"

Scott sat up very straight, looking around wide-eyed. An alarm bell was going off. Everyone else in the room was just as surprised. Virgil and Gordon had both jumped up, and everyone else was startled by the loud ringing. After a moment, Scott frowned. "Dad, what alarm is that? I don't recognize it."

Jeff was shaking his head, his own frown deep, as he strode to his desk. "I don't know, son."

"Oh! OH! Oh, my God! It's my reindeer trap! It's caught something!" Gordon went striding from the room. Everyone else froze. Scott looked over at Virgil, and saw the same suspicion forming in his eyes.

Alan was still frowning, apparently not in on whatever gag Gordon was pulling. "I didn't even know he'd finished it. I thought he'd show it to us when it was done."

Alan took a few steps in the direction that Gordon had taken, then looked around at the rest of the family. Seeing no one else was moving, he stopped and stood undecided. Scott stood up, shaking his head. "Well, we might as well go see. He's obviously planned this out."

With a look of resignation, Virgil joined Scott and Alan and headed down the hallway. "Hey, somebody take a handycam. I want to see too." John said from the video screen.

Jeff nodded, and reached into a drawer of his desk to pull out a miniature camera which he flicked on as he followed his sons. "Come on, Mom, this should be good."

Scott led the way to the end of the hallway, where the elevator stood open, beckoning them on. Used mainly to deliver the Tracys to the workshops buried beneath the mountain, it also could take them to the roof, where Kyrano had an herb garden.

The entire family crowded onto the elevator, and taking a deep breath, Scott pushed the button to take them to the roof. When the door slid open, Scott felt an immediate concern. His brother Gordon was a few steps out of the elevator. He'd fallen to his knees and was staring at something off to the left. His skin was pale, and his jaw hung open, telling Scott that whatever had happened, it wasn't what Gordon had planned.

Alan pushed his way past Scott, wanting to see whatever it was that Gordon was staring at. He took only a few steps before he froze, and with his own jaw hanging, said, "Oh, my G… is that? Oh my God!"

The rest of the family moved forward in a group. When Scott saw what his brothers were staring at, he felt his own jaw drop. To one side of the roof, was a large wooden contraption that bore some slight resemblance to the plans of a reindeer trap that Gordon had shown the family earlier in the month. Squarely in the middle of the trap stood an honest-to-God reindeer, head low, panting in the warmth of the tropical evening.

"It looks real." Virgil said in a whisper.

The comment explained everything to Scott. It was a hologram. It had to be. He looked carefully at the feet of the image, looking for the projector that he knew had to be there.

He frowned when he couldn't spot it. Throwing a glance at his red-haired brother, who was still looking stunned, he strode over to the trap, and reached through the plastic mesh 'bars' and took a swipe. Fully expecting his hand to go through the image, Scott jumped when his hand connected with solid flesh.

The reindeer grunted at the contact, and moved away. Scott blinked. "It's a real reindeer." Looking back at his family, he repeated, "It's a live reindeer."

Jeff moved up to the bars of the cage and looked over the captive. "Dasher," he said in a tone of bemusement.

Scott cocked an eyebrow, then examined the reindeer a bit closer. He saw a well-worn harness on the animal, with a small nameplate attached. It did indeed say Dasher.

Jeff turned back to his fourth son. "Gordon, where did you get this animal? Why would you bring a live reindeer to the island?"

At the accusation, Gordon came out of his daze. "I wouldn't, Dad. I wouldn't bring a live reindeer here. It's an arctic species. It's too hot here for them. I mean, look at it, it's sweating like nobody's business."

Gordon looked around at his family. His eye fell on his younger brother. "Oh, very funny, Al."

"Me? I didn't do it. Where would I have gotten a reindeer? When would I have gotten a reindeer? I haven't been off the island in weeks!"

"Well, neither have I!"

"Yeah, but it's your reindeer trap."

Gordon looked around at his family. He shook his head. "I never expected to catch a live reindeer in that trap. It was just a joke. I was going to catch toys and things in it. I have no idea who would bring a live reindeer down here."

Ruth, ever practical, shook her head. "Regardless of who brought it here, the poor thing is suffering. Gordon, go get a bucket of water. Scott, we'll need to build a pen or something in the hangar. You and Virgil can start on that. John, if you'll do some research on what these animals eat, Alan will try to gather it up. Jeff, do we have anything that will do for a lead rope?"

"We're not keeping it." Jeff said, emphatically.

"Well, of course not. Gordon will find a zoo or preserve that will take it in, if he hasn't already. Well? What are you all standing around for?"

Scott looked over at Virgil, and shrugged. Together they entered the elevator, and headed for the hangar. Scott noticed that Virgil had been very quiet. "You okay, there, Virg?"

Virgil shook his head. "Scott, think about it. Where could he have gotten that animal? For that fact, when could he have gotten it? Alan was right, nobody's been off the island in weeks, except for rescues, and when you went over to Moyla with Grandma."

Scott heard a touch of speculation in Virgil's tone. "Virg, we went in Tracy One. Even if I could have hidden it somehow from Grandma, there's no way it would have fit in that little jet."

"Okay, so if you didn't bring it over, then he had to have brought it over sometime in November. How did he hide it for so long?"

"The island is small, but it's not that small. He could have had a pen over on the other side of the mountain, and we would never have known."

Virgil shook his head. "No, that doesn't work. If he had it over on the other side of the island, he'd have to go out there every day to feed and water it. And what about that rescue in Thailand? We were gone for three days. You know Gordon would never let an animal go without food for three days."

Scott looked askance at his brother. "Virgil, what's the alternative? The same arguments that apply to Gordon, apply to everyone else. Either Gordon, or someone else managed to hide a reindeer on the island, or Santa is running on seven cylinders tonight. I prefer to think it's one of Gordon's better pranks. Otherwise, we'll all have coal in our stockings tomorrow morning. Now come on, let's get this pen built."

With a worried frown, Virgil nodded, and the two brothers got to work. Within an hour, they had a credible pen built, complete with gate and watering and feed troughs. The brothers stood back and admired their handiwork for a moment. "Looks good, Virg. And it's cool enough down here that it should be comfortable."

"Yeah. I vote Gordon has permanent pooper scooper duty."

"Goes without saying."

Virgil shook his head. "I have to tell you, Scott, he never ceases to amaze me. How did he even come up with the idea of catching a reindeer? He's just so warped, you know?"

Scott grinned, "I know, I know. Still, you have to hand it to him. He really knows how to get us going."

"That he does." Virgil threw his arm across Scott's shoulders. "Well, let's go get Dasher and show him his new home."

"Sounds like a plan. You don't suppose it bites, do you? I don't have a lot of North Pole livestock experience."

Virgil laughed as they boarded the elevator. As they rode up to the roof, Virgil looked around the small space and frowned. "How the hell did he get that thing up there? And how are we going to get it down? I don't think those antlers will fit in here."

Scott looked thoughtful. "Well, he had to use the elevator, and that's all there is to it. There must be a trick to it."

The elevator came to a stop, and Scott glanced at the buttons. It was the main floor, and the door slid open showing Gordon and Alan, their arms filled with buckets of water and greenery. "Hey guys! Did you get the pen built?" Gordon asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, we did. How'd you get that thing up on the roof, anyway?" Virgil asked.

The twinkle died, and with irritation, Gordon said, "I didn't. Why don't you ask Alan?"

"Hey! I didn't do this!"

"Yeah, right."

"All right, guys, we'll figure it out." Scott interrupted before the fight could start.

The door of the elevator opened, and the four brothers piled out. One glance at the trap, and Gordon dropped his bucket and ran over. "Oh, no!"

"Where did it go?" Alan asked.

"The real question is, how did it get out?" Virgil asked, scratching his head.

The trap was built like a cage, and all of the brothers' eyes were suddenly drawn to where the mesh at the top had been peeled back. The hole was just about reindeer sized, but it would have had to jump almost straight up to escape.

"Oh, ho, ho, ho, Gordon. Very funny." Scott scoffed.

Alan and Gordon looked at each other, then at their big brother. "Scott, I was with Gordon the whole time. There's no way he could have gotten up here to open that trap and get that reindeer out."

Gordon got a suspicious look to his face. "You know, Al, I want to apologize for doubting you. It seems pretty obvious who's responsible."

Scott raised an eyebrow at the pointed glare. "Be careful who you accuse, Squirt. Virgil and I were together too, and the security cameras were on us the whole time."

Alan blinked. "Well if it wasn't us, and it wasn't you guys, who was it?"

"Dad?" Gordon asked doubtfully.

Scott shook his head. "No way. And before you even say it, not Grandma either. Now that I think of it, it's just the kind of thing that John would pull, but I'll be damned if I can figure out how."

Gordon moved and sat down on one of Kyrano's polystyrene crates and leaned back against the wall of the elevator. "So what do we do about it?"

"We never admit we were fooled. That's what we do." Virgil said firmly.

"Where is it?" Alan asked. "I mean, it was real, right? You touched it, didn't you Scott? It was a real animal, right?"

Scott shrugged. It had felt alive under his momentary contact. "As far as I could tell. Yeah, it was real."

"So, unless he beamed it up to Five, it has to be here somewhere. We have to find it."

Gordon shook his head. "You can find it. I'm going to bed."

The red haired young man went over to the elevator and pressed the call button. He looked around the roof as if half expecting the reindeer to appear. His eye landed up on his trap. As the elevator door opened, he said softly, "He wrecked my trap."

Scott and Virgil rolled their eyes and followed their brother onto the elevator. After a moment, Alan joined them, and together they headed into the house. Scott spotted his grandma and dad at the games table, playing a hand of gin. He headed over to them, but Alan beat him to the punch. "The reindeer got away."

"Got away? What do you mean, got away?" Jeff frowned.

"There was a hole in the top of the trap. Apparently, it flew away," Scott said, dryly.

Both Jeff and Ruth frowned. Virgil spoke up. "I was with Scott, and Gordon was with Alan. We're not sure how John pulled it off."

Ruth started to smile. "So, it wasn't a real reindeer?"

Jeff shook his head. "That animal was real. I could smell the barn on it. And it was breathing, I could feel its breath."

"Maybe he figured out a way to spike the eggnog with a hallucinogenic. Anyway, I gotta admit, it was a great prank. I'm going to head to bed. Merry Christmas, everyone."

"Goodnight, baby."

"Merry Christmas, son."

Gordon waved wearily as he headed to his room. Scott watched him go, then stretched his back. "I think Gordon's got the right idea. Good night, everyone."

To the sounds of good night from his family, Scott followed his brother down the hall. He could hear Alan and Virgil behind him, planning a search of the island for the morning. Scott suspected that search would come up empty. As he climbed into his bed, pulling up the crisp sheets, he spared a thought for Santa, and hoped the wayward reindeer could catch up with the sleigh without any trouble.


	2. The Answer

Six months earlier in Kalvesta, Kansas…

Stu Kopecki looked up from his computer screen. It had sounded like a knock at his door, and even though he'd been expecting it, the rap had been so soft, he wasn't positive he hadn't just imagined it. When the sound came again, he got up from his chair with a smile on his face. Striding through the house, he flung open the door and beamed at the young man on his doorstep.

"Gordon! Come on in!"

Gordon Tracy returned the wide smile and reached to shake his old mentor's hand. "Mr. Kopecki, it's been way too long!"

"I've told you before, son, call me Stu. Mr. Kopecki just reminds me that I'm a doddering old man."

"Yeah, I just hope I can dodder like you. You're looking good. Really good."

Stu pulled himself up tall. "Thank you. You're not looking as bad as I expected. From what your Dad said, I half expected crutches, or a walker at least. Speaking of which, come on in here and have a seat. Is that the upgrade software?"

"Yes, sir. Johnny said to tell you to call him when you're ready to load it and he'll walk you through it."

Stu watched critically as the young man moved to the couch and sat down. He was relieved to find no indication of the injury Jeff had told him about a few days earlier. It was that sprained hip that had changed the planned trip by John to upgrade Stu's IR radio set up.

Stu had become an International Rescue Operative almost a year earlier when a tornado had crushed a building at the high school, and the Thunderbirds had been called out for the rescue. He had been amazed to find the rescuers to be the sons of his childhood friend, Jeff Tracy. The eldest son, Scott, had asked Stu to keep their secret, and he had consented, then after a conversation with Jeff, had signed on as an operative.

He hadn't regretted his decision for an instant. His duties were minimal, and the rewards, including occasional visits by the Tracys, were great. Although, when Gordon had been a last minute replacement for John's scheduled visit, Stu had found himself caught up in what he was sure was some sort of scam.

"Are you doing okay? You don't seem to be limping or anything."

"I'm fine. You know how Dad is, a paper cut is a major injury as far as he's concerned. I've got a big ol' bruise, but even that doesn't hurt much. I was just happy that it happened when it did. Gave me an opportunity that I didn't think I'd get."

"So, how was the wedding?"

"It was great. I saw a lot of people that I hadn't seen since I left the service. It's always good to talk to old friends, you know?"

"Actually, I do. Now, why don't you explain to me what you want that damn prop for?"

Gordon's eyes lit up. "Is it here? Does it work? How does it look?"

Stu sighed. "I don't know. I haven't opened the box." When Gordon jumped to his feet, ready to go look, Stu shook his head. "Oh, no you don't. I want your solemn promise, Gordon. I want your solemn promise that this isn't going to come back and bite me in the rear."

Gordon batted his eyes in a show of innocence. "Why, Stu, you know me better than that. I'd never implicate you in anything I'm doing. Besides, it's going to be a nice thing. Honest."

"Funny, but that sure didn't sound like a solemn promise to me."

Gordon immediately sucked in his smile and raised his hand in a Boy Scout salute. "I hereby promise that this will not come back and bite you in the rear. On my honor as a Boy Scout. And as a Tracy. And as a former W.A.S.P. Oh, and as an International Rescue Operative. How's that?"

Stu shook his head ruefully. "You forgot the stack of bibles and the Constitution."

"Okay, I swear on…"

"Enough. Let's go take a look at this thing."

"Great! Where is it?"

"It's out in the shop. Come on."

The two men left the house and made their way to a small outbuilding where Stu did his woodworking. Unlocking the padlock, Stu ushered his guest in, flicking on the overhead lights as he followed. In the middle of the shop sat a polystyrene crate.

Gordon frowned. "It's smaller than I expected it to be."

Stu shrugged. "I double checked the bill of lading, and this is the right box. One used movie prop complete with handheld remote control. Let's open it up. Maybe they packed the wrong piece."

The two men approached the crate, and together, unsnapped the fasteners and lifted off the top, which proved to be it's own shallow compartment holding a thick pamphlet of instructions, and a fist-sized remote control with several switches and toggles.

"Cool." Gordon reached for the remote.

Stu picked up the pamphlet, and opened to the first page. "Oh," he said with mild surprise. "This is interesting."

"What?" Gordon moved to look over Stu's shoulder.

"Uh, let's get the side here opened up."

"Huh? Oh, okay." Still curious, Gordon moved with Stu to unlatch the side of the crate. When they removed the side panel, Gordon frowned. The entire crate appeared to be filled with a gray brown mass of fur.

"Push the blue button on the remote, son."

Gordon glanced over at his friend, then picked up the remote from the table where he'd placed it, and pointing it squarely at the fur, pressed the blue power button. The fur seemed to twitch, causing Gordon to jump back. Then in an intricate move, the fur started unfolding itself, until after a few minutes, a full-sized replica of a reindeer stood in front of the two men.

Gordon, who's smile had gotten wider and wider as the animal had taken shape, started laughing. "Oh, that is just so cool!"

Stu had his own smile and shook his head in amazement. "It's astounding how realistic it is."

"Yeah. It's amazing what they can do these days. From the catalog description, it can pull a sled and everything."

"Well, it should for how much it cost you."

"I know. It was serious money. But I figure once I'm done with it, I can use it to deliver gifts to children's hospitals and things. It won't just sit, I promise you."

Stu nodded, knowing full well just how generous the Tracy family was. "Here, let's see if we can put it through its paces."

With a grin, Gordon joined Stu in reviewing the instructions. Soon, they had the robotic reindeer breathing and shaking it's furry head in standby mode, and walking and nuzzling their hands in full active mode. The afternoon flew, and both were sad to see it fold itself back into the crate at the end of the day.

Merry Christmas!


	3. Chapter 3

Virgil Tracy frowned. He couldn't get the chording on his latest musical effort just right. He'd written what he'd thought of as a toss-off to apologize to his grandmother for creating a mess a couple of weeks earlier. But as often happened, the simple little tune had stuck with him, and the perfectionist in him demanded that he fiddle with it until it was flawless.

"Hey, Scott, so what's going on?" Virgil looked up as his brother John entered the family lounge. The blond had only gotten home from his month long rotation on Thunderbird Five a few hours earlier, just in time to celebrate New Year's Eve with the family.

Scott, who'd been relaxing with a book, raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think something's going on?"

John rolled his eyes, and stated the obvious. "Alan."

Virgil couldn't help the tight little grin that bloomed on his face. His youngest brother, Alan, had flown Thunderbird Three up to Thunderbird Five to relieve his brother. Despite being emphatically told not to give John any information, he'd obviously tipped his hand. Probably just by stares and jittering legs alone.

Scott paused before answering. "We're going to have a family meeting a little later. We'll let you know then."

Virgil watched as the cocky self-assured attitude drained out of his brother. "What did I do?"

Virgil snorted, "Oh, like you don't know."

John turned his laser focus on his brother. "As a matter of fact, I don't, Virgil. Why don't you tell me?"

The challenge was there, but Virgil refused to rise to the bait. "Scott told you, we're having a family meeting about it. Why don't you just relax and have some eggnog?"

"Oh, if you two think I'm going to stick around for a witch hunt, you're nuts. I think I'll just head over to my observatory."

John turned and headed for the hallway, but was stopped when his father appeared, blocking the way. "John. Good to see you, son. Come have a seat."

Trapped, John simply nodded, and moved to the couch. When Scott caught Virgil's eye, they both moved together to flank their younger brother. Virgil sat down on one side of John while Scott took the other. Jeff sat at his desk, and put a call in to Alan, and summoned Gordon from wherever he was.

John watched warily, but Virgil noticed he didn't actually stiffen until Jeff also summoned their grandma. Gordon bounced in, saw what was happening and pulled up a chair. When Ruth came in, she pursed her lips. "Virgil, Scott, move away from your brother. You should know better than to try and intimidate him."

Ruth moved to where Virgil was sitting, and with a preemptory motion, got him to get up and move to a chair. She sat down next to her blond grandson, and took his hand. "How are you, baby? I've missed you so much."

John relaxed a bit and responded, "I'm fine Grandma. At least for now. Ask me again in half an hour."

John looked speculatively at his brothers and father. Jeff wasn't inclined to make his son wait. "John, I need to know how you got that reindeer on and off the island. We haven't found any trace of it, so we know it's gone, but surely, son, you didn't risk our security for a little prank?"

John's eyes flickered over to where Gordon sat, but Virgil wasn't buying it. In the week since Christmas, he and Scott had hashed it over, and had come to the conclusion that despite Gordon's known prediliction for pranks, there was no way the red headed Tracy brother could be responsible. A live reindeer had made an appearance on the rooftop of Tracy Villa on Christmas Eve, and had just as suddenly disappeared. Aside from the fact that Gordon had been in sight of one or the other brothers, the prank was deemed too sophisticated and complex to be his doing. In fact, the only one capable of pulling it off, in Virgil's opinion, was John.

John looked around the room and the accusing stares, and turned to his eldest brother. "You're buying into this, Scott? You think that I was able to orchestrate a living breathing reindeer from outer space?"

For a moment, Scott looked uncertain, but then firmed up. "It's a case of Occam's Razor, Johnny. The simplest explanation is the most likely."

"And the simplest explanation is that I would break security to have someone come onto the island with a reindeer that he or she somehow hauled up to the roof with no one noticing, or tripping any alarms, then removed the same way?"

"Nobody else could have, John. We were all stuck on the island for weeks before Christmas." Gordon piped up.

"And I somehow was able to leave Thunderbird Five to set it up?"

Virgil frowned. "No, of course not. You set it up through the internet."

John looked over at his brother. "And, of course, I'm the only one with internet access, right?"

"Enough. Son, look me in the eye, and tell me you didn't do this," Jeff said, sternly.

John didn't even flinch. He looked his father in the eye, and said, "No, father, I didn't not arrange to have a reindeer delivered to the island."

Virgil frowned at the declaration. One of the reasons he'd been able to suspect John was because his father had asked each of them that same question point blank, and everyone had declared themselves not to be the culprit. Both he and Scott shifted in their seats. Either no one was responsible, and it really was one of Santa's reindeer, or one of their brothers had lied straight to their father's face. Neither option seemed possible.

John shook his head. "Better question, Dad, is do I know who did it? The answer is yes, I do."

Scott and Virgil both sat up straighter. Alan, from his post on Thunderbird Five, asked the question on everybody's lips. "Who, Johnny?"

"How do you know if you weren't in on it?" Gordon challenged.

Ruth, saw the look in her grandson's eye, and raised a hand for silence. "I think John has a story to tell us. Go ahead, baby."

With a quiet smile for his grandma, John settled back. "Well, when I saw that thing on the roof, I couldn't believe my eyes, just like everybody else. I mean, how did they get it there? How did they get it on the roof? I didn't buy for a minute that Santa had deserted it there."

Scott's eyebrows went to the top of his head at that. Virgil snorted. John continued, "My first thought was that it couldn't possibly be real. I was just about to suggest that it was a hologram when Scott went over and whacked it."

"I didn't whack it. I thought it was a hologram too. I expected my hand to go right through the thing."

"Uh-huh," John responded dryly. "So my next thought was if it wasn't a hologram, then it had to be fake. Of course, Scott was proclaiming to one and all that it was real, and I immediately figured that he was behind it all."

"What? Me? You've got to be kidding!" Scott frowned.

John continued as if the interruption had not occurred. "I ran a thermal image of the roof, and that seemed to bear out my suspicions. There was a heat signature for the reindeer, but it was nowhere near as hot as a live animal would be."

At this point, everybody was staring at Scott. Gordon quipped, "Wow, I didn't know you had it in you, Scotty."

"John, that thing felt real to me. It grunted when I hit it, for God's sake!"

John sat nodding. "It most certainly did, but I knew for a fact that it wasn't a live animal. So I thought to myself, who could design a reindeer so lifelike that if would fool a smart guy like Scott?"

Frowning, Jeff shook his head. "Son, if you're going where I think you are, I suggest you stop. Brains would never waste his time on something like this."

"Exactly, Dad. I knew that it couldn't be Brains, or realistically, anybody else in the family. No time, and better things to do. So then, the question became who in their right mind would design a realistic robot reindeer?

"Walmart?" Gordon ventured.

Virgil shook his head. "If it was Wally World, there'd be reindeer on everybody's front lawn."

"You're right, Virg. It was entirely too sophisticated for a mass market product, but if not for Walmart, then for who?"

Virgil looked around, but everyone seemed just as mystified as he was. Again it was Alan who prompted his brother. "Who, Johnny?"

"The million dollar question, Al. I didn't have a clue, so I got on the internet. 'Robotic reindeer' didn't bring me anything, neither did 'living Christmas decorations' or 'realistic artificial animals.' Actually, it took me most of a day to track it down."

"You found it." Jeff stated rather than asked.

"Why yes, I did, as a matter of fact."

When John paused, Ruth prompted him, smiling gently. "Well, don't keep us in suspense, baby. What did you find?"

John smiled back at the diminutive woman. "Grandma, do you remember last winter when Caravan Pictures failed?"

Ruth nodded, and Virgil found himself nodding, too. It had been in all the news. The moviemaker had gone belly up when its president had absconded with the company treasury. The man had been caught some time later, but it was too late, all of the company's assets had been liquidated. "Well, one of the pictures in production at the time was a Christmas movie about Santa's reindeer. There were several working models made, including one called 'Dasher.' The production notes said that all of the models were fully functional, and couldn't be distinguished from the live reindeer on set."

"It's a movie prop?" Virgil couldn't help a vague sense of disappointment. He'd known perfectly well that the reindeer they'd seen hadn't actually come from the North Pole, but still, it had made a nice fantasy.

"Absolutely." John nodded.

"Okay, so how did a movie prop land up on our roof on Christmas Eve?" Gordon asked.

"Ah, well, that's a story in itself. Once I identified the reindeer, then I had to track down what had happened to it. Actually, that wasn't so hard. I found an article about everything being liquidated, and I discovered that all of the reindeer props had been put up on EBAY. I went into archives, and found that most of the reindeer had been bought up by Henson Studios, which made sense because they were the ones who developed them in the first place."

"Who got Dasher, son?"

John looked his Dad right in the eye. "It went to a private party with the handle of fireplug248."

Scott frowned, "Wait… fireplug248? Isn't that Stu Kopecki's handle?"

"It certainly is." Jeff sat frowning at the revelation. "Why would Stu buy a movie prop?"

"Actually, Dad, he didn't. The final price on the thing was $32,000.00. No way Mr. Kopecki could raise that kind of money."

Gordon started to smile slowly. "Dad, you dog!"

Virgil nodded. It made sense. His father had the wherewithal, and Stu was one of his oldest friends. It even explained how each of his brothers had been able to deny knowledge. He looked at Jeff with new respect.

Jeff looked around at his sons, surprise in his eyes. "Now, wait a minute, boys, you can't seriously think that I was behind this?"

"Give it up, Dad. Johnny's got you pure and simple," Alan practically crowed.

But John was shaking his head. "I thought so at first, but then I looked a little closer at the timing of the whole thing."

"What timing?" Scott asked, his own soft smile showing his pride in his brother's detective work.

"Well, first off, the winning bid came in at the last minute. And was a good two thousand dollars over the existing bid. Right there, I knew it couldn't be Dad. I mean, when has he ever overbid on something?"

"If not your father, then who, baby?" Grandma asked, softly.

"See, it was all about the timing. The reindeer went up on auction on June 7th, and ended on June 18th. The winning bidder only made the one bid on June 18th."

John paused again, and looked around hopefully. When no one made the connection, he said, "Now, who got himself injured on the 16th, and discovered that he was going to be going up to see Stu the next week?"

Every eye in the room turned to Gordon, who laughed and clapped. "Damn, Johnny, but you're good!"

Virgil felt his jaw drop. "It was you all along?"

Frowning, Jeff interrupted. "Son, you swore to me that you weren't responsible."

Gordon lifted a finger, "Actually, Dad, what I said was that I wasn't responsible for bringing a live reindeer to the island. And I didn't."

Scott sat looking stunned. "You spent $32,000.00 for a prank?"

"Well, not just a prank. I'm shipping it up to the Tracy Foundation. Can you imagine the looks in kid's eyes if a real reindeer delivers their Christmas presents? It can go into hospitals, and do home visits, and walk in the Kalvesta Christmas parade. It'll pay for itself in kid's smiles." Gordon shrugged.

Virgil sat back and nodded. His brother really was incredibly big-hearted. And warped. Definitely warped. He looked over at Scott, and in a silent communication decided to let the whole thing slide. At glance at the monitor told him that Alan wouldn't be so generous.

As if on cue, Kyrano appeared with a tray full of champagne flutes, a reminder that this was New Year's Eve. As the drinks were handed around, Virgil smiled. He had no idea what the next year would bring, but he knew it would be interesting.

"Happy New Year, everybody." Jeff lifted his glass, and everyone clinked the flutes, replying with their own wishes for the New Year.

The End


End file.
